


cherry lips

by jehoney



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Blowjobs, Come Swallowing, Coming In Pants, Filth, First Time, Horny Teenagers, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, PWP, boyf riends — Freeform, michael sucks jeremy off that's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 13:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11232009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehoney/pseuds/jehoney
Summary: Jeremy's been eyeing up his mouth (more than usual, at least) for the past week, and Michael's been welcoming the attention: wrapping his lips around the straw of his slushie cup, biting at them when he knows Jeremy's looking and feeling a little flash of pride when he flushes and looks away. But he's kind of sick of it now, of the dancing around, of avoiding the obvious, of their makeout sessions beginning and ending solely in the northern hemisphere.He wants to suck Jeremy off, for fuck's sakes.





	cherry lips

**Author's Note:**

> so @canabananalism and I were discussing michael w/ an oral fixation so he's constantly gotta have something in his mouth which obvs makes him a pro dicksucker
> 
> so enjoy horny teenz and absolute fucking filth xox

The thing is, Michael could probably get Jeremy in the mood without even trying. It's not particularly hard, given Jeremy's insatiable adolescent libido, but Michael's got this other thing, other than his body or his face, he's got this thing with his mouth.  
  
It's an unconscious thing, kind of like playing with hair: he's constantly got something in his mouth. Most of the time, it's food, and Jeremy's resolutely not complaining about his constant snacking because holy shit, his _thighs_ , but the ends of his pens bear a lot of the brunt too, chewed to within an inch of their lives, and sometimes his lips, pulled into his mouth as he worries them with his teeth.  
  
He's tried to chew gum, to occupy his mouth, but the loss of flavour and the toughening of texture is a bit gross, especially when you're chewing all damn day. Not to mention the expense. He felt like Violet fucking Beauregarde.  
  
So, now, as he sits beside Jeremy in the latter's bedroom, the millionth episode of Rick and Morty up on the television, it's only fitting that he's chewing on the end of the drawstring of his hoodie, which should by all accounts be kind of a turn off, the end damp and shredded, but is actually, really weirdly, getting Jeremy going. It's something about the fullness of his lips, the lower pulled down by the tie resting on it, the way he kind of laughs through his teeth to keep it in his mouth, and Jeremy already knows he's talented in that area, because Michael can kiss him until he's virtually left this plane of existence, but he wants to know... more.  
  
He seems oblivious. He's not oblivious. He's been feeling Jeremy's eyes on him for the past half hour, the dude is less than subtle, and he's been messing with his tie to see how long it takes him to crack. Is that sadistic? Possibly, but Jeremy's been eyeing up his mouth (more than usual, at least) for the past week, and Michael's been welcoming the attention: wrapping his lips around the straw of his slushie cup, biting at them when he knows Jeremy's looking and feeling a little flash of pride when he flushes and looks away. But he's kind of sick of it now, of the dancing around, of avoiding the obvious, of their makeout sessions beginning and ending solely in the northern hemisphere.

He wants to suck Jeremy off, for fuck's sakes.

  
So when the episode finishes, he lets the drawstring fall out of his mouth, and turns to where Jeremy's reddened a good number of shades at the action. Smooth.  
  
"You okay, dude?" Michael asks, fully aware of the answer, but Jeremy nods anyway in an attempt at a casual response. The other boy's lips twist into a smirk and, oh fuck, Jeremy's cock is making the first stirrings of interest at the way he's looking through his glasses, and this reaction is really embarrassingly fast.  
  
"Yeah, I'm good." he manages, and Michael reaches over him to grab the remote, in what must be deliberate torture, before pausing the auto-play feature and turning back.  
  
"Only so much you can watch in a day, right?" he asks, and Jeremy nods, still distracted by the warmth of Michael leaning over him the second before, and they just kind of sit there staring at the paused Netflix screen, Jeremy with an almost semi, Michael with an agenda.  
  
"Hey..." he begins, and picks at the knee of Jeremy's jeans, "Do you want a blowjob?"  
  
The question renders Jeremy speechless, but largely due to the fact that Michael's able to predict exactly what he does want, and has the fucking guts to ask for it. He'd never be able to ask Michael to blow him in his life, all he's able to do is nod enthusiastically, and stretch his smile to match Michael's grin at the response.  
  
He doesn't really know what he was expecting, but Michael leans over to kiss him first, which is something he's comfortable with and definitely doesn't make him feel the slight intimidation at what they're about to do, and the familiar slide of Michael's mouth against his imbibes him with enough courage to admit once they've pulled apart:  
  
"I've never had a blowjob before."  
  
Michael probably knows, in fact he definitely knows, so it's not big news but he feels it needs to be said in case something goes horrifically wrong (though what exactly that could be is unclear).  
  
The other boy just looks at him like that much is obvious, kisses him quickly and pulls back.  
  
"I've never given a blowjob, dude."  
  
And he's pulling back in, except this time he's kissing Jeremy's neck, which has fast become one of his favourite things, not least because of the marks left behind, but the way Michael's lips are swollen and reddened whenever he pulls back from sucking at the skin, and the warm bite at the pressure, and he's half laughing nervously because, "Did you just call me dude right before sucking me off?"  
  
Michael ignores him, instead moving his hands from the beanbag either side of his body to skating up under his shirt, rucking up the fabric until he's mapping the skin above his jutting hipbones, and Jeremy can still feel himself talking, "Like seriously _dude_ , honestly _bro_." he mocks, just to keep himself sane and he wants to apologise for his own scrawniness, because he'd much rather suck bruises into the softeness of Michael's stomach any day but Michael doesn't seem to care because soon hands are replaced with wet lips, the hands shifting even impossibly lower to undo the fly of his jeans.  
  
Jeez, things have progressed real fast, but he's not complaining because it's the best he's felt in fucking years, and in their sort of hurried abandon they only manage to push his pants halfway down his thighs before Michael's staring at his half hard cock through his Pac-Man underwear. Michael bought him these briefs, he remembers absently, and how fitting is it that it should be him that palms his semi through them. He feels like he should be more turned on, that at this stage he should be rock hard and dripping, like he is most times they make out, but there hasn't been much foreplay, not like the rutting they've tried before, and Michael doesn't seem to mind working him to hardness through the fabric, feeling the length of the form showing through the elastic.  
  
He hopes Jeremy can see the way he's biting his lower lip, the way he's salivating at the sight of his flushed face, the curve of his cock waiting to be taken in mouth, and half of him wants to suckle him obscenely through the briefs themselves, leave his crotch damp and warm, but the half that wants him in his mouth now is louder, so he pulls down the underwear with a small inhale from Jeremy at the exposure. God, his cock is gorgeous. Judging from extensive knowledge of his own and cable porn, that is, but the point still stands because it's a fucking decent size, even at half mast, and the fact that it's curved slightly sends him straight to hell with the amount of thoughts that flood into his head of Jeremy feeding his cock down his throat. Baby steps.  
  
The impatience wins out, though, and he takes Jeremy into his mouth, and the weight on his tongue is so fucking delicious that he now knows that chewing on his pen in class will never be enough when this alternative is sitting three seats away.  
  
And the hot, wet, heat neatly nearly makes Jeremy come right there; he can feel himself stiffening quickly as Michael begins to drag his lips up the shaft, a hand at the base moving down to cup his balls like he does when he jerks off by himself, but it's never this wet, and the picture of Michael's lips stretched obscenely around his dick has only ever been fantasy before now, and it's on another playing field when Michael pulls back and tongues at his slit with a look up that takes all of the air out of Jeremy's lungs. Now that he's adjusted, he recovers the ability to move his hands, one coming to tangle in Michael's hair, causing a moan that vibrates through his cock, the other cupping his cheek, and as Michael turns his head the tip of Jeremy's cock pushes against the wall of his cheek, and Jeremy can't help but brush a thumb over the obscene bulge before it pops out of the side of his mouth and presses, dripping in precum and saliva into the corner of his slick red lips. He just leaves his mouth hanging open, eyes half closed in pleasure, and Jeremy realises it's his responsibility to feed his dick back in which he does, whilst bringing the fingers not pulling at Michael's hair to dip inside the heat, stretching those insatiable lips with his fingers alongside the width of his cock and he'd be worried he was going to far if Michael didn't a) look so fucking wanton and b) moan so desperately.  
  
Then, almost as if he breaks out of some spell, he starts to move, in a rhythm, pulling almost completely off the tip of Jeremy's length before sinking down as far as he can, which is not very far, but he knows they're going to have plenty of time to practise this, to practise taking him down until he can feel him in his throat, fingers pushed in alongside because fuck, Jeremy must be a mind reader to know that was the hottest thing, pulling his already taut mouth further open to take more, making his own cock leak into his already damp underwear. And with the increase in rhythm, the hand in his hair tightens, and Jeremy's hips start to snap into his mouth, and he chokes a little, all the while listening to Jeremy whining about how good he feels, how warm and wet.  
  
He can feel how much of a mess he is, how his briefs are soaked and ruined, how the saliva runs from the corners of his mouth and down his chin as Jeremy's fingers dip in to smear it back onto his lips, and the most he's touched himself is a hand rubbing through his jeans but he's still so close to the edge, and so is Jeremy, and he's moaning.  
  
"Oh my god oh my _fuck_ oh god I'm gonna come I'm gonna-- can I come in you?"  
  
Ever polite Jeremy, and Michael responds by rubbing at his balls, drawn up to the base of his cock, tight and ready to spill, and they do, and Michael swallows as much of the load as he can, braving himself against the bitterness, and flushing at the dregs that drip from the corners of his mouth, and he's coming too, in his pants, like the horny teen stereotype that he is, orgasm crashing over him, warmth spreading through his crotch as he manages to moan around the softening shaft in his mouth, Jeremy's hips canting at the overstimulation.  
  
For a good minute after he pulls off, all he can do is rest his cheek on Jeremy's thigh and breathe heavily, as hands card through his hair and the other boy looks at him down the length of his body with an amazed expression, breathing just as exerted as they come down from the high.  
  
If this is both of their first, Jeremy doesn't know what's in store for their second, or third, but out might have to be written on his death certificate: cause of death: Michael Mell's mouth.  
  
Suddenly, it strikes him that he's been completely selfish, and hasn't gotten Michael off at all, so he tugs his hair slightly to get his attention.  
  
"Hey, need me to give you a hand?" he asks, and the responding blush that colours Michael's cheeks gives him the answer.  
  
"I mean, I need you to give me a pair of clean underwear..."  
  
"You mean you--" he begins, and Michael nods, and Jeremy's cock gives a valiant twitch of interest because that might just be one of the hottest things he's ever heard, "Shit, Michael..."  
  
"Yeah, it was just... really fucking hot." He replies, almost sheepishly, as he pulls up to kiss Jeremy on the lips this time, and sure, Jeremy thinks he'd love to return the favour, give Michael that kind of selfless pleasure with his mouth, but the fact that it gets Michael himself off so much to be on his knees for him is overwhelming and ridiculously arousing.  
  
The only problem, now, is when Michael's chewing on his pen, drinking through a straw, biting at his lip, the previous vague fantasies consolidate into a very specific, very compromising image to think about at school: his red, slick lips wrapped around Jeremy's cock, sucking obscenely.  
  
Jesus. Jeremy really is screwed. 


End file.
